


Gimmie that back!

by Calicoskies



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-29
Updated: 2015-01-29
Packaged: 2018-03-09 13:39:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3251804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Calicoskies/pseuds/Calicoskies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nothing is more frustrating than looking for a well used item. Daryl goes in search for what is lost.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gimmie that back!

Michonne walked along the perimeter of the prison looking for walker build up. This was the sixth time in the last 12 hours she had cleared the fence of Walkers. Standing still was just not an option. This was the longest amount of time she had consecutively spent at the prison before or since the Woodbury residents had joined the community.   

Heading back, Daryl’s bike and its' current adornments caught her eye, the few extra pieces of grubby clothing Daryl owned in a pile drying in the late morning sun. On the handle bar lay a very familiar sight that was normally only ever showcased on Daryl Dixon’s fine ass. Now that Michonne really thought about it, she had never seen the red rag not in Dixon’s pocket.  Now the question that hung in the air was would Daryl miss his rag? Michonne pocketed the piece of cloth with a smile and nonchalantly made her way to the main group area for breakfast.  

 “Michonne!!” Carl emphatically called out, and began updating her on his opinion of the Avengers vs Justice League.

Michonne settled back in the corner of the ‘mess hall’ (which was really just a portion of the prison court yard that the group had delegated as the eating area) to listen to Carl’s comic book arguments.  

She heard the man’s discontent before she witnessed it.

“Daryl Dixon, you stop it right now, you are tearing up the laundry center!” Carol declared in disapproval.

“Well if you wouldn’t steal my stuff no more I wouldn’t have to come in here!” came the short dismissal as the hunter with an agenda continued to rummage through the laundry.

“Nobody is stealing your stuff Daryl, and that really isn’t a good reason to tear up our hard work!” Carol continued to lecture.

Chastised, Daryl hastily piled the mess he had made into a semblance of order. The look of defeat in his posture let Michonne known he had not found his prize.

As the scene quieted Michonne leaned over to Carl and conspiratorially whispered, “Dixon is getting too serious and is long overdue to be messed with. “  She showed Carl just a flash of red fabric before slipping it back in her pocket.  Carl couldn’t help but smile at how weird Michonne's humor could be.

~~

The original prison group always congregated back to cell block C by the end of the day. Nobody ever spoke the words out loud but there was a sense of security to step back from the Woodbury people and be with their own.

Michonne settled in to pretend read her comic book while Beth and Carl entertained Baby Judith on the pallet.

She almost missed Daryl’s quiet entrance. His posture was that of his tracking instinct. It was almost as if he were out in the forest with the squirrels. She noticed that he had became fully and truly absorbed in trying to sneak a peek into the cells that did not belong to him. Michonne took that as her cue to surprise him.

“You wouldn’t make a very good cat burglar. Just what do you think you are doing Dixon? There aren’t squirrels to be had here!” Daryl’s posture changed the moment he registered her voice.

“Sumthin’ of mine has been taken and I’m trying to get it back. Dunno why anyone would take off with a damn rag, but it’s mine and I want it back.”

 “Ahhh, you better check with Beth then, Daryl. She was rounding up unused rags for Judith’s diaper pail.” She replied.

Daryl made a hasty exit in Beth’s direction downstairs and it wasn’t but a minute or two before Michonne could hear Daryl hollering Beth’s name.

“Beth! Have you been pickin’ up rags for lil Asskicker?”

“Yeah. I do that pretty much all the time as old clothes get worn out.  Judy gets herself pretty dirty.”

“Ya haven’t picked up a red rag have ya?"

“That nasty old thing? Daryl Dixon, now you know better. Judy doesn’t get THAT dirty!”

“I jus’ cleaned it yesterday, it’s a good rag!” Daryl looked at her slightly affronted.

“Well, I haven’t seen it, but If I do I’ll let ya know.” Beth smiled and patted his shoulder.

~~

It was his throbbing head that woke him up. He had reached for his keys so he could go to the Quick Mart for the beer and coffee that would soothe his hangover but the keys were not on the peg by the door. He had torn the trailer apart. Finally, Daryl had found them behind the left front wheel of his truck. It was only then he had the memory of them slipping from his grasp as he swayed into the house to sleep it off.  That was the last time Daryl had recalled loosing something that he used daily before the world had fallen.

That rag was one of the last possessions he had kept since the world had been claimed by the walking dead. Daryl didn’t consider himself sentimental but that rag was one of his things. He sat in the corner of the yard near his bike watching the walkers at the gate.

~~

Michonne passed him as his mind wandered on the stoop of the yard. It took him a minute to register the flash of red cloth bobbing with the rhythm of her steps.

“Hey, HEY, that’s mine ya better gimme that back!!” Daryl charged after her.

“What you raggin’ about , Dixon?” Michonne laughed. She threw the much sought after rag at him.

“All ya had to do was ask. Come on, let's go on a run.” 


End file.
